There is always more than one way back to ourselves.​

It was supposed to be an outrageous experiment in hair color.

The concept was bold. Brazen, even. Certainly unusual.

For one week each, I was to brave the wide-eyed streets of NYC as a redhead, a brunette, a blonde, a black-tressed woman, and in my own locks. A detective would follow me, observe, and report how the world interacted with each of my "selves."

No small task for a woman struggling with bipolar disorder. Willingly inviting the eyes of everyone I encountered. Purposefully subjecting myself to their critiques.

The experience stunned me. Excited me. Sometimes, it hurt deeply. ​

Beautifully written adventure of someone stepping over that self imposed boundary and living beyond the confines of the mind.

But suddenly I found I'd embarked upon an unorthodox, extraordinary path to self-healing.

This is a story about what happens when we make the choice to heal ourselves differently. To chart a path back to our own minds in weird, strange, and wonderful ways.